What is your secret?

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Part 4: Nature of the phantom

When Harry returned to his bedroom, all his roommates were long ago asleep. Even Ron was snoring loudly, being ridiculously collapsed sideways on top of his blanket.

Harry smiled. He undressed silently, and then slipped into his own bed. There were only a few hours left till dawn. However, Harry was lying in his bed, wide-awake, and analyzing the night's events.

Indeed, there were many things to think about. The mere meeting with phantom of his foe was worth quite a lot!

Almost all questions that Harry had about the night's events were neither about the magic room and its destination nor continual music of magic harp; and even not about magic mirror-pools, but a nature of the Malfoy-phantom. That was because Harry always trusted to his own feelings, and he was more than sure that to the touch the phantom of his enemy was as immaterial like any usual ghost supposed to be.

Still, that night visitor could do things that, in Harry's opinion, the usual ghosts could not do. In particular, the phantom of that blond Slytherin could manipulate items. He could lift them, move and perform many other operations… The simple example was their chess game.

However, let's be consecutive.

Harry was more than confused and intrigued when the phantom led him away from the magic pools. Only their journey turned out to be very short. The phantom of Malfoy brought him to the fireplace and gestured Harry to take one of the armchairs.

"Eh?" that's all that Harry could utter, but he obediently settled himself in a cozy arm-chair.

The phantom smiled to Harry, confusing the last ever more. Then Malfoy took out a lid from the coffee table, and pulled out a wizard chess set hidden there… After returning the lid into its original place, Malfoy put the chessboard on the table and began to set out the chessmen.

Harry's jaw dropped with astonishment. It turned out that the phantom could pick up and move things!

'Is he really a ghost?' Yet, Harry still remembered his filling when his hand passed through the body of pseudo-Malfoy. That was terrible sensation!

'Well,' Harry thought, 'It's easy for me to call him a phantom. So that will do.'

Against all the odds, the Malfoy-phantom could play wizard chess and he did that rather well. Since the phantom could not direct his chessmen verbally, he thought out an interesting alternative. First, he touched a chess piece with his forefinger, then a square where that piece would move. And unlike Harry's chessmen, the Malfoy's ones obeyed him without any word. They said just "Yes, master". While Harry's chessmen always tried to say a disparaging comment before moving.

After making his next move, Malfoy-phantom raised his eyebrows provokingly, showing his snow-white teeth in mischievous smile.

It was interesting, why the phantom could not speak. Although, as Harry had to admit, the said muteness made the phantom's company much more enjoyable than the one of his prototype. After all the real Draco Malfoy would not sit even two minutes beside Harry and say nothing about Harry's parents, friends or Harry himself.

Distracted, Harry looked around the room. Never-burning-out torches were shining evenly, making the room very comfortable… The flickering fluid from one mirror pool was quietly flowing into another one… The magic harp was softly playing a new, placatory melody… Cheerful flames were crackling in the fireplace… Teasing sparkling in the eyes of Malfoy, who was seating in the opposite armchair.

Harry raised his eyebrows and shifted his gaze to the chessboard. After studying the situation on the chessboard, Harry stared at Malfoy with suspicious indignation.

"You are cheating!"

"Who? Me?" The phantom blinked in false astonishment. His mute indignation would look more natural if it were not to his archly shining eyes.

"Yes, you!" Harry said accusatorily. "Your queen was standing here, and my knight was there!"

Malfoy snorted in indignation, then, unable to control himself anymore, he leaned back and giggled soundlessly.

Harry also snorted, and then laughed, joining to the phantom in his merriment.

x–X–x–X–x

Draco Malfoy was in a bad mood. He absent-mindedly picked at his breakfast, absolutely disregarding a morning turmoil that as usual prevailed at the Great Hall. Draco's bad mood and lack of appetite were caused by utterly unbelievable nightmare that pursued him the whole last night.

The blond Slytherin flinched involuntarily.

'Yes, that cannot be anything else but nightmare,' he thought, looking at the initiator of his depression mood. That one, as usual, was sitting at the Gryffindors' table, animatedly talking with his sidekicks.

That night in his dream Draco found himself in a strange unknown room. It was the scantily lit, yet cozy room. And everything would be ok if there was no Potter in there. To be alone with the Gryffindor was not a part of Draco's ten favorite ways of spending time. Nor even it was a part of his hundred favorite ones.

Still, that was not all. Draco dreamed that he was a ghost. Moreover, he was a mute ghost… But the worst part of the dream was that Draco was in love with Potter.

Draco's face turned greenish, thinking of how his subconsciousness could play such a mean trick on him.

'Me and Potter?! No way!' he thought angrily. 'That really is nightmare of nightmares!'

He never had been interested in boys! Yes, he liked to look sexy, but that was for girls' sake only! Then where that stupid dream came from?

'Only one thing was good in that dream, that there was nothing happening between me and Potter.'

With difficulty suppressing a qualm at a thought what else his devilish subconsciousness could shove into his nightmare, Draco moved his plate with now destroyed food aside. 'It's good that there was nothing between us. We just played wizard chess. Quite an innocent occupation. Still that absolutely wild desire to do something pleasant to Potter, to embrace him or to do something equally bizarre… Disgusting!! That is just sickening!'

Feeling a new wave of nausea, Draco darted out of Slytherins' table and rushed out of the Great Hall. Fuming with indignation, he did not notice that pair of confused green eyes observed his hasty retreat…

TBC

A/N: Thank you for reading. Review, please!

© Star Mirage